Must Be Bobby
(专辑: Bobby Digital: Digital Bullet - 2001)
Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. [RZA] Psssh. Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo! [Bobby Digital sound] Yo.. Bobby Yo, yo, RZA Bobby Yo, yo, RZA Bobby B-Bobby, yo Hit the
bodega for a
40 ounce son, Garcia Vega Two bags of chips, and one pack of Now & Laters Flame tucked down to my nuts, on my last buck Only thing keep a
nigga calm is a
good fuck Loose-leaf cigarettes be dipped in wet Chicken of the
seas get trapped inside my net with their clothes off, son when the
gun goes off I'm bound to play Napoleon, and blow a
nose off your Sphinx; your stumble rap style, your flow's off like Kunta, tryin to run with his chopped toes off Unchallenged sword I
yield the
storm rider Clip full of ruffled-tip fast-actin long fire Four hundred grain cartridge, with steel casin Those who can't draw the
crowd is still tracin The
mic is cast to the
floor and shapeshifted Heavy as the
hammer of Thor you can't lift it So tense, bitch there's no defense This four-four inch'll make you jump the
fence Right eye squinted; I
speak brok-len english Stumble off the
cold four-oh of Olde English Wu brew Two-two inside the
shoe No describin what this heat, in my jacket could do I
teach, seeds to read, never reach for the
weed indeed Bow down to the
great Bob Digi Digi (Bo-bby..) Yo, it must be Bobby (Bo-bby..) Oh, no, it must be Bobby (Bo-bby..) Oh, no, it must be Bobby (Bo-bby..) Oh, no, it must be.. I
keep rice soaked in coconut milk mixed with tofu Sit in the
sun six hours then I
charge up like Goku Dragonball Z; imagine you're raggin me That's like walkin through a
Blood hood flaggin a C
Not, tryin to tell you how much weight we carry It may get, every snake in the
tri-state buried Plus, Feds had one add, sayin I
gun traffed I
sold twenty million records bitch; some laugh! Fresh shafts of morning dew on Nancy Drew Sherlock Holmes crime sleuth couldn't figure the
Wu You loaf of bread head, keep a
sober head One point five million years my overhead (Bo-bby..) Yo, yo, it must be Bobby (Bo-bby..) Yo, yo, it must be Bobby (Bo-bby..) Oh, no, it must be Bobby (Bo-bby..) Yo, check, yo I
keep MC's puzzled keep my dogs in the
muzzle Ice cold forty ounce drink 'em down with one guzzle Son might spit a
word at a
bird, see if she chirp back Tall chocolate deluxe buttercup, off the
meat rack A
chickenhead scratch the
yard for worms And roosters walk around with their heads in the
perm I
be spreadin knowledge keepin my third eye polished Never, chase for dollars to fulfill the
black wallet You must be Bellevue son I
walk with twelve jewels Afford anything this world could sell you Beats that the
change the
style'll rearrange ya BZA-Bobby! I'm strikin you like Beatlemania Yo, it must be Bobby Oh, no, it must be Bobby Yo, son, it must be Bobby BZA-buh, BZA-wha', BZA-Bobby (Bo-bby..) Fuckin up the
mic is still my hobby (Bo-bby..) F-fuckin up the
mic is still my hobby (Bo-bby..) Yo, yo, it must be.. doo doo! (Bo-bby..) Yeah yeah (Bo-bby..) [repeat to fade]